


The Milky Way (at night)

by cathalin



Category: Adam Lambert (Musician), American Idol RPF, Kris Allen (Musician)
Genre: Barebacking, BottomAdam, Camping, Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-24
Updated: 2010-01-24
Packaged: 2017-10-17 18:12:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/179757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cathalin/pseuds/cathalin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>New relationships can be difficult. When Adam takes Kris camping, it turns out to be a greater gift for both of them than either had expected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Milky Way (at night)

**The Milky Way (at night)**

Kris startles awake, not knowing where he is. There’ve been too many changes over the last three years, too much waking up in strange places, so it’s instinct to deepen his breathing and brace himself before he opens his eyes.

“Wake up!” Unmistakably Adam’s voice, whispering. It doesn’t _sound_ like it’s anything bad; there’s no fear in his tone. In fact, he sounds the way he does when he—

“Sleepyhead, get up!” Another shake, and a hand, a _freezing_ hand, slips under Kris’s shirt, treacherously close to his vulnerable stomach.

“Stop, I’m up, I’m up!” Kris fumbles with the warm cocoon surrounding him.

Adam laughs. “You can’t fool me, Kristopher Allen. You’re going to burrow back in there like the decadent sleep-obsessed creature you are if I don’t stay right here and make you get up.”

“Mmmrmph,” Kris protests, forcing his eyes open. What he sees doesn’t even make sense at first: a ceiling right above his head, sloped, illuminated by a moving beam of light; too close and weird-looking to be… Oh shit, that’s right: they’re camping. He groans. He still can’t really believe it. Somehow he and Adam -- inexplicably so far as Kris is concerned -- are _camping_ at Big Bear, two days stolen from their insane schedules, the paparazzi, the demands of everyone who feels like they have a stake in them.

“You woke me up,” he protests, letting the whine into his voice.

“You have to see!” Adam says, and Kris can picture how his eyes are shining, given his tone of voice.

“Did Jesus come again? Because otherwise, I’m fine right here in—“

“Okay, that’s it!” There’s a rush of cold air as Adam unzips Kris’s sleeping bag, the unmistakable warm span of his hands under Kris’s shoulders pulling him up. “There’s something you’ve got to see.”

Kris grumbles, but pulls his hat down lower on his head and reaches for his gloves. He knows Adam when he’s like this, and he’s unstoppable. Plus, though Kris would never admit it, usually when Adam’s in this mode, it means there’s something pretty awesome to do. Except the times when it’s something ridiculous.

Kris sighs, louder than necessary, and feels around for his jeans. Adam hands them to him with far too much enthusiasm for what has to be the absolute middle of the night, or like—“What the hell time is it, anyway?”

"About three. But hurry!”

Kris grumbles and pulls his freezing jeans on. Adam bundles him into his parka and crams Kris's glasses on his face for him. “Beautiful!”

Kris sticks out his tongue at him, but follows him out, crawling through the tent opening.

“Close your eyes,” Adam murmurs quietly, and Kris does. Something about the tone of Adam’s voice, the hushed night, makes Kris swallow any further protests.

Adam’s hand is warm when he takes Kris’s and pulls him through the tent opening and up to stand, wraps strong arms around him.

“Mmm,” Kris says, muffled in Adam’s coat.

“True, but that’s not why—Look up.”

Kris tilts his head up and opens his eyes, and gasps. The sky is littered with stars – hundreds of them, no, thousands – sparkling brighter than he’s ever seen. They fill the entire sky, from one pine-edged end of the clearing to the other. Their light is so bright he can clearly see Adam’s face, his eyes on Kris, warm and kind of… hopeful.

“Wow,” Kris says, then, “Whoa!” as one of the stars unhitches itself from its place and flies in a quick arc across half the sky. He’s just about to open his mouth to say something when another star does it, then another. “Holy crap.”

“Yeah,” Adam says, face tilted up. “Mid-August, the Perseid, the Meteor Shower. I remembered it from being a kid. We’d camp in the Sierra sometimes. Come on, sit.”

Adam pulls Kris down, unresisting, into a nest of blankets on the dirt. Kris’s brain is slowly beginning to work – he’s never any good in the middle of the night – and he realizes a couple of things in quick succession. “You planned this!”

Adam pulls at Kris so they’re both lying on their backs, Kris's head nestled on Adam’s shoulder. The display just gets more intense: there’s hardly a time when there’s not a meteor streaking across the sky, and sometimes there are more than one, darting in the corners of Kris’s eyes. “Wow,” he says, feeling the warm padding underneath them. “Extra blankets and everything.”

“Are you—Do you like it?” Adam asks. There’s a weird tone in his voice. Anyone else might not know what it means.

“Idiot,” Kris says. His throat is tight and his words come out choked. “Wow,” he says again, as stars crisscross above them. He rolls on top of Adam. He can see Adam’s face clearly in the starlight: it’s stripped bare of any makeup, and his hair is sticking up in ways he knows Adam would hate. He smiles down at him. “I guess it’s okay,” he says, and doesn’t miss the little flicker of doubt on Adam’s face.

“Idiot,” Kris says again, cradling Adam’s face in his gloved hands. “No one’s ever—I’ve never,” he murmurs into Adam’s mouth, then kisses him, frustrated, trying to say with his lips what’s sometimes hard for him to say in words. Adam’s hands smooth over his shoulders and back, pull him close.

After a while Adam shoves him off, and they lie side by side, watching the show in the sky for a long time. It feels like they’re the only ones in the world, stars falling down around them, like God decided to let them spill out of his hands, a gentle fall of the heavens.

It’s quiet, so quiet, like no one and nothing else exists, like everything else is just a fever dream – friends, family, colleagues, cities, even music. The hush is at its height when the first glimmer of light appears through the branches of the huge pine trees ringing their clearing, and suddenly Kris is freezing, shivering. “Shit, now I’ve frozen you,” Adam whispers. “Let’s go inside.”

“Don’t want to miss any of it,” Kris says, but the show in the sky is finally burning out; there hasn’t been a star streaking across the sky in a while.

“Time for boys to be in bed,” Adam says lightly, tugging Kris up and bundling him into the tent. Somehow Adam gets their sleeping bags to zip together, and they press into each other, both shivering.

After a while Kris starts to feel warm again. He’s wrapped in Adam’s arms, and Adam’s wrapped in his. He's still tongue-tied from the beauty of the sky, but he wants to tell Adam, wants to strip him of any of the lingering doubts that Kris supposes are a remnant of how they came to be, plus maybe something that's part of who Adam is.

His body has started to react to Adam's presence, like it always does. The rushed handjobs in their living room after Kris's flight got in didn't do much except take the edge off. He needs Adam these days like nourishment, a deep ache in his body and an itch in his fingers. And he thinks maybe -- no, he knows -- that Adam feels the same.

Kris’s fingers shake on the buttons of Adam’s shirt, then his fly. It’s ridiculously cramped and they both get elbows to the ribs and the face, but Kris wants to burn the way he feels into Adam’s skin with his lips, his fingers, his body, so Adam can’t doubt. Adam’s mouth opens to Kris’s tongue like it’s meant for him, silken heat. Kris’s fingers stroke Adam’s cheek, his eyes, his hair, and Adam’s eyes flutter closed. “Can you feel it, what I— _Adam_ ,” Kris murmurs, pressing kisses into Adam's mouth.

"Want you to--"

"Yeah," Kris gasps. He knows what Adam means without him having to spell it out. This isn't usually the way they do it; Kris rarely wants it this way, nor does Adam. But tonight -- tonight there's something about the fall of stars, the hush of the night, the place they’re at right now...

“Yeah,” Adam says a little later, arching into Kris’s slicked-up fingers, head thrown back. Kris leans down and mouths hot kisses on every inch of Adam’s neck, up his jawbone, down his cheek, plunging his tongue into his mouth as he twists his fingers, two buried deep; that should—

“Ahhh,” Adam groans. “Come on.”

Kris reaches again for Adam’s pant’s pocket – trust him to carry what they need – but Adam’s hand clenches around Kris’s forearm. “Don’t need it. Remember?”

Kris gasps, because holy shit, they’ve been together and exclusive long enough to bareback for a couple of months; he’d just not thought about what that might mean if he was the one to—

He has to grab the base of his cock to dial it back, suddenly overwhelmed. He's only fucked Adam a handful of times, period -- and yeah, he uses that word, fucking, in his head, because one thing he promised himself was he wasn't going to hide from himself any more about that stuff. It isn’t something they do all the time anyway; Kris had figured out a long time ago that using heterosexual models didn’t necessarily translate. Still, it was something they both loved, when they had time, something that made Kris feel raw and exposed like nothing else, something earthy and basic and terrifying and powerful.

Kris isn’t sure what it is that makes it occasionally right to reverse roles, but he’s sure it’s right tonight, Adam under him, mouth open, panting. “Kris. Kris, god damn it!”

Kris twists his fingers for good measure before pulling them out and slicks himself carefully with his other hand, then pushes Adam’s knees even closer to his chest, even farther apart. Adam sucks in a big breath, and Kris knows this is kind of hard for him, this position maybe most of all. “It’s okay,” he murmurs. “It’s okay. It’s me. Got you.”

Adam gives him a quick smile. He's beautiful in the slight light leaking through the tent; stripped bare.

Kris takes a deep breath and pushes in just a bit, gives Adam time to breathe, then slides all the way when Adam relaxes. It's-- "Oh, _crap_!" he says when all the sensation hits, because if he thought it was intense with a condom on, this -- this is mind-blowing, tight heat all around him, and it's Adam, letting him in, letting him--

"Kris," Adam's voice, a little broken.

"I don't know if I can--" Kris pants, right on the edge.

"Shhh, shhh," Adam says, soft and tender. Kris breathes for a minute and gets some control back, then nods. Adam's legs come around Kris's back, strong, and Kris has to not think about them, long and muscled, or he'll be too close again and ruin this before they really start.

Then it's a long slow slide, a breathless pull out, slow at first, until he can't any more, until Adam is moaning under him, hands pressing bruises into Kris's hips, a burn in Kris's belly, his arms shaking.

"More," Adam gasps. "I won't break," and Kris gives it to him, gives it to both of them, supporting himself with one arm, pulling Adam's hips up with the other, setting a hard, steady rhythm. Adam reaches for his cock, but Kris bats his hand away and Adam groans, then flashes Kris a dirty, joyful grin.

Kris manages to grin back, but the slick tide of heat and the beautiful lines of Adam's face are too much for him, and he has to close his eyes, focus in.

He wants Adam to be desperate, and he's almost there when Kris glances at him next; pupils blown wide-hot, panting, sweat matting the hair at his temples. Adam is _his_ , Kris's, and he doesn't want him to forget that, doesn't want--

" _Mine_ ," he whispers, realization hitting on the tail of the words. Adam's eyes fly open, shocked. And yeah, it's sometimes hard that Adam's idea of faithful includes just a bit too much body contact with strangers in bars, not to mentions actively feeling up Charlie the keyboardist, the latest nod to fanservice in Adam's band. Maybe...maybe Adam isn't the only one who has lingering insecurities, this thing still so new between them.

"I--Kris, fuuuck." Adam arches and surges under Kris; the clench of his body is the final push. Everything flashes white, silent as Kris's body pulls taut, fills Adam.

Adam's still breathing hard when Kris collapses on top of him. It's sweaty and gross inside their sleeping bags, but Kris just burrows in on top of Adam, fingers in Adam's hair. "Baby," Adam murmurs. "Oh god."

"No," Kris pants. "Oh my god _you_. The way it feels, oh my god."

"Yeah," Adam says. "I know. You gonna want to hog it from now on?"

Kris laughs. "Not hardly. You know what I love."

"Mmmhmm, love you for it."

They pet each other in silence for a while. It's getting lighter, and Kris hears birds, the gentle thwump of Adam's heartbeat under his ear. "Thank you for this."

"Yeah," Adam says. And there's that note again, the doubt, or whatever the hell--

"Adam." Kris raises up on his elbows, looks straight into Adam's face. Adam's there open for him to see, not hiding anything. Kris smiles down at him; he can't help it. "Tonight was..."

"Yeah," Adam says. His forehead wrinkles and he looks hard up at Kris's face. "How about you? Do you get what I'm telling you?"

Kris strokes Adam's cheek, the skin over his eyebrow. "If you get what I'm telling you."

"Still such a little bitch," Adam says, eyes smiling.

"Too bad you're stuck with me," Kris says, and he figures his eyes are probably smiling right back.

"Then it's a good thing I don't want anyone else," Adam says lightly, but Kris hears everything behind that simple declaration.

Kris swallows hard. "And it's a good thing I don't want anyone wanting me except you."

They hug hard, hands wrapped tight around each other's backs. After a while, Kris' whispers in Adam's ear, "But if you ever wake me up at three in the morning again..."

Adam huffs out a laugh. "What're you gonna do to me? Pummel me with niceness?"

"Oh, man, them's fighting words. Good thing for you my lover wore me out."

Adam laughs again. "Mmmm."

"Adam," Kris whispers, just before he drifts off to sleep.

"Yeah, baby?" Adam whispers back.

"Just, a _meteor shower_."

"Too glittery?"

"Too crazy-amazing gotta write a song about it it's that incredible and by the way, _I love you, too_."

There's silence while Adam's lips find Kris's cheeks, his eyelids. "Well," he says between fervent open-mouthed presses, "Okay. I guess." Kris buries his face in Adam's neck and they both shake, trying to keep in the laughter.

They fall asleep in each other's arms. Kris knows he's going to dream of stars flinging themselves across the sky, a silver-drenched night, new love finding its way.

~The End~

**Author's Note:**

> Written for aintmsbehaving, who sponsors a little boy in Haiti and didn't yet know his fate. She wanted happy future fic, and gave some wonderful prompts, including the title of this story.
> 
> Beta thanks: to melisande431, still willing to beta when I run around falling in love with fandoms she doesn't know, who looked it over quickly for me. Trust me when I say, any mistakes and problems are mine.


End file.
